


Darlings, How I Missed You

by CityofAangels



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Beads, Dom Bucky Barnes, Dom Natasha Romanov, F/M, Feels, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, PWP, Porn with Feelings, Sex Toys, Smut, Sub Tony Stark, Sub!Tony, Threesome - F/M/M, Warming Lube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-02-01 01:28:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21314236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CityofAangels/pseuds/CityofAangels
Summary: Tony was hoping for a nice, worry-free evening at a sex club.Enter Bucky Barnes and Natasha Romanov, and Tony gets more than he'd expected.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov/Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov/Tony Stark
Comments: 4
Kudos: 252





	Darlings, How I Missed You

**Author's Note:**

> I AM ALIVE!!!  
Can you believe that?
> 
> Okay, seriously, Endgame has basically killed off my writing but hey, here you goooo... What better way to come back than.... smut.
> 
> Seriously, I hope you enjoy this. These three are hot hot hot.
> 
> As always, comments are greatly appreciated.

It could have been awkward, meeting like this. Honestly, if he wasn't who he was, it should have been awkward.  
But at that exact moment, awkward was not a word that described him so well. Horny was one. Very horny, even.

To his credit, he really, absolutely had no idea that he would meet them here. Actually, he was kinda suspecting that they knew he was going to be there and they were the ones who'd arranged to be at the right place at the right time. After all, one of them was a super spy and the other a supersoldier, not much could stay hidden from them.  
This was a club he'd been going to for years now. He knew the owner; they went way back, had met for the first time in MIT – and yes, it was a frequent joke between them that, while Tony, the wild one, had gone on to become a superhero, Ethan, the shy, hard-working student, was the one who'd gone off tracks and opened a sex club. Anyway, the thing was, he knew that he was safe here; members were carefully screened, footage or pictures of any kind were forbidden, and whoever thought it smart not to respect the rules was immediately sued – which was enough to discourage most of them from even trying. He'd had much fun in the last few years, without any of it finishing on some porn site, which was a relief – both for him and for his poor, overloaded PR team.

The thing was, he'd really looked forward to this evening. He'd had shitty week after shitty week: an emergency trip to Shanghai to calm down a business partner that was freaking out on them; a fight that had left him completely wiped out; deadlines that kept adding up to the point that as soon as he finished a project, three more were added to the list. So yeah, he needed the relief, the fun, the peace that an evening like this gave him.  
But now, Barnes and Romanov were smirking at him from the other side of the room.

He should leave, really, he should. Just turn around, pretend he hadn't seen them, go back home and spend the night mopping and eating ice cream.  
Yes, he should, except that even from this distance, he could see their eyes watching him, observing how he'd react. And he'd be damned if he let them believe that they intimidated him – though they did, really, what with their creepy ways of walking, living, and killing.  
So he did whatever sane (at least his own definition of sane) adult would do: drained his drink, put down the empty glass on the counter, and walked out of the bar, extremely aware of how he was walking and what his ass looked like in these pants.

There was a big dance floor. Not really the kind you'd see in traditional clubs; in this one, there were a lot less clothes and a lot more touching. As he walked purposefully towards a well-lit corner of the floor, a hush quickly fell on the crowd; and he knew that he wasn't the one, or at least not the only one, to cause it. Most people were used to seeing him here by now, and though the first couples of times had been awkward, now it was very rare that he got stopped and congratulated or thanked for his work. A quick glance behind him confirmed what he already suspected: both Natasha and Bucky were following him. Nat's creamy-white skin, barely covered by the outrageously short silk dress she was wearing, glittered under the coloured lights and Barnes… His arm was reflecting the light, left out in the open for everyone to see, a fitted top showcasing every little curve of his muscles, leather pants – leather pants, Tony thought slightly hysterically – tucked into his well-loved combat boots, his hair tied back in a messy bun.  
Goddamn it, Tony was screwed. Had he really been stupid enough to think none of them would notice his stares? He was a dumbass – well, technically, a genius, but still: dumbass.  
But screw it, he thought. If his fate was to die killed at the hands of two extremely skilled assassins who did not very much like his way of checking them out, then so be it. It was ironic, yes, with his line of work, but at least, he was going to have some fun before.

So when warm hands settled on his hips, he looked up in the eyes of the perfect stranger who was now dancing extremely close to him and grinned. Never let it be said that he couldn't put on a show; those drama classes from back in high school came in handy from time to time, and that time definitely was one of these. He was a superhero, yes, but he was also a super dancer, and he'd prove that, right now.  
The stranger – tall, blond, not wearing much, very obviously someone Tony wouldn't go for usually – was a good dancer, and was not shy, certainly not. What started out as dancing soon escalated into their hips rubbing into each others', sweaty hands sneaking behind shirts and, soon enough, the stranger's lips were on his neck, tickling him, ready to bite. Their clothes were about the only thing that stopped what they were doing from qualifying as sex – though, thin as their pants were, even that wasn't much of a distinction.  
And of course, that was when the two assassins decided to break the party.  
Suddenly, the stranger's lips froze on his skin, and he was soon taking a small step back, his hands leaving Tony's hips, held up like someone was holding him at gunpoint. Which, in some twisted and secret way, was probably the case – Tony doubted that either Nat or Barnes ever stepped outside without at least some kind of weapon on them.

He sighed and rolled his eyes, offering his dance partner a small apologetic smile before turning on his heels and facing – of course – Barnes and Natasha.

''I was having fun,'' he complained in a voice that was certainly not whiny.  
''Oh yeah, you sure were. Everyone could see that.''

God – had Barnes' voice always been that hoarse? Or was he really playing the role of basic prehistoric man to get Tony going? If so, it wasn't working. Or maybe just a little.

''Jealous, Bucky?'' he spat, emphasising that ridiculous name.  
''What if we were?'' cut Natasha, and then she took a step forward. And another, and another, until she was close enough for Tony to breathe in her hypnotising fragrance, a thousand lights reflected in her eyes.

She was smirking mischievously, and for a second, Tony got lost watching her, until he jumped when a body, warm, firm and muscled, plastered itself against his back, arms sneaking around his torso and two hands – one flesh, one metal – resting almost innocently on his stomach.

''Yeah,'' a warm voice whispered right next to his ear, ''the lady's right. What if we were?''

And, well, no one had ever pretended that Tony made good life choices. So, instead of answering like any other human being would have done, with words, he answered with gestures. He looked at Natasha, making sure that her eyes were on him, grinned, and moved his hips backwards, until his ass was touching Bucky's crotch, not even surprised when he felt that the supersoldier was already hard. One of his hands went down and back to grab his stupidly leather-clad ass, and he enticed him forward, forcing him to move to the beat of the music, pleased with himself when Barnes' breath became suddenly heavier. With his other hand, he gestured Natasha to put her arms around him, and did the same, his fingers stroking the deliciously warm expanse of her skin.

It took about two and half seconds for the dance floor to clear around them, leaving them a wide, nice space to move. Tony was distantly aware that most, if not all, eyes were on them, but he couldn't really bring himself to care right now. Barnes' cold fingers were sneaking under the thin material of his shirt, tracing their freezing way up and up, closing softly around a nipple. He moaned, trying unsuccessfully to hide it as a cough, but Natasha was already smirking, her hands busy causing shivers by playing with the short hair at the nape of his neck, up until they gripped a fist of hair and pulled his head back, baring his neck. And damn, he was lucky that he didn't have any interviews planned for the next few days, because she must have been a vampire in a previous life, her lips sticking to his neck and never letting go, her teeth teasing at the start, then biting down more forcefully when Tony encouraged her with a groan.

''What do you want?'' Bucky's voice rasped out, just loud enough to be heard above the music.  
''Buc–''  
''No,'' the soldier stopped him, his hand flexing on his hip, ''tonight you'll call me James. Now tell us, kotenok: what do you want?''

Oh Lord, there were so many things Tony wanted. He wanted to see them sprawled on his bed, to take his time appreciating their body, worshipping them – had wanted that for months now, ever since Barnes had come back to the Tower and quickly got close to Nat. He wanted for them to ravish him; wanted to have forgotten his name by the end of the night; but also wanted for them to make love to him, softly, slowly. He wanted–

''Let's put it another way,'' Natasha stepped in when he still didn't give an answer, her hands an anchor on the back of his neck, her chest pressed against his. ''What do you need, baby?''

There was a silence and then Tony answered, hesitantly:

''I want… Take care of me, please?''

It shouldn't have been possible to know what he meant, but somehow they seemed to know, because Natasha nodded and stroked a gentle finger down his cheek.

''Oh we will, Tony, we will. By the end of this night, you won't even remember why you needed to come here.''

Yes, that, he wanted to say, but didn't, instead nodding gratefully and letting his head fall backwards onto Bucky's shoulder.

''Please,'' he whispered, letting go of all pretence – it wasn't as if they didn't know that he'd been lusting after them for months, now, watching when they kissed in the kitchen, when Bucky melted and purred like a big cat every movie night, when Nat's magic fingers worked on the knots in his shoulders.  
''We need you to stay with us for a while more, kotenok,'' Bucky said, and though the words were teasing, there was a smile in his voice, and Tony could do nothing but obey, blinking against the fog that was already setting in his brain, muffling his thoughts. ''That's it, we've got you. Should we go back home?''

He shook his head, slowly, and explained: ''Got a room rented for the night. Key's in my pocket.''

Oh, he realised just a second too late. Saying this was a trap he'd walked into willingly. Natasha's hand sneaked into his pocket and felt the key card, but she didn't take it; instead her fingers stayed in his pocket, testing the edges, her fingernails bare centimetres from Tony's cock. He inhaled sharply and Bucky chuckled behind him, his arms tightening around him.

''She's wicked, Natasha is. Only in the good way, though.''

Tony shivered and nodded as Natasha's hand finally left his pockets, caressing the sensitive skin of his abs as it went. She took a step back and held out a hand, winking when Tony gripped it; Bucky – no, James was gripping his other hand, metal fingers anchoring him and guiding him through the crowd and up the stairs at the back of the club.  
There were a few rooms up there, for those guests who did not have the patience to make the trip back home, or for those who wanted to try out some toys they didn't have back home. The owner was rich, after all – he had a bit of everything, and Tony had always had fun with whoever he managed to find to take him up there and out of his head.

As Natasha let go of his hand to open the door, James' other hand sneaked around his waist, stroking up and down from his armpit to his hips. It was mesmerising, really; and with how touch-starved Tony was, he didn't need much more for him to sway on his feet, putting a bit more of his weight on James' solid body right next to him.

"Goddamn, but you're a beauty like that," James whispered almost reverently. "Needy little thing, aren't you?"

He was about to protest, but Natasha turned around right then, her eyes gleaming wickedly in the candle-lit corridor, a soft smile on her lips as she opened the door.

''Been wanting this,'' he groaned as James gently pulled him inside. ''Been waiting for this."

The light came on in the room – soft, muted, just what he needed, and he realised he was surrounded, James right behind him, Natasha's breath feather-soft on his mouth.

"We saw you, kotenok," she whispered, and James was impossibly close now, his body radiating heat even through their clothes, "saw you looking, watching us. Had to hold back James from pouncing on you so many times," and at this Tony's eyes closed, picturing what it would have looked like. "He wants you so much, baby. We want you so much."

Her fingers were on his shirt now, opening one button after the other, slow and lazy. It was stupid, he knew, but he froze as she came closer to his heart, closer to the raised scars around there. She didn't say anything; just looked at him as if to ask permission, and when he didn't say no, she kept going and smiled. He wanted to say something – apologize, maybe, for the state he was in, or joke about what an old man he was, but he didn't have the time to do so.  
Her lips were on his, now. She was kissing him softly, sweet as honey, and he moaned against her touch, feeling as her lips stretched into a languid smile, as her fingers closed around his hair. James swore behind him and his hands tightened around him for a second, his grip almost vice-like before he relaxed.

Tony knew he was a good kisser, had been from the start. He was a fast learner, after all, and kissing well was a priority if you wanted to have a nice night, but Natasha – she was out of this world. He tried to take back control of the speed they were going a couple of times, but she always pulled back as soon as he did, until he gave up and let her lead, his breath rushing out as her tongue forced his lips open.  
And now James' lips were on him, too, exploring the fragile skin of his neck, nibbling his way up to his ear. His hands were on his skin, too, pulling his shirt away, his fingers raising goosebumps wherever they went: the small of his back, up to his nipples, slowly massaging his shoulders, then back down again.

This was all too much, and Natasha seemed to feel it; she stepped back, smirking as he gasped for air. He barely had time to catch his breath before he was turned around, gently manhandled by James. The kiss was rough this time, clearly dominant, and he moaned, again and again, as James bit gently at his lip, tilted his head just the way he wanted him to be. This was just what he had been looking for: to be led around, taken out of his own head by assertive touches and firm but gentle commands.  
He held his hand back, looking blindly for Natasha, but she wasn't there, anymore.

"She just went to one of the closets," James murmured against his lips, so close Tony could feel the vibrations of his voice against his own skin. "Hmm.. I think you're up for a nice treat, doll. She's an creative lady."

And then he was walked backward, James' hand on his back steadying him, until his knees touched the bed and he was lying down, staring up at the soldier's face.

"Look at him," Natasha's voice called out, coming closer and closer. "All laid out for us. Whatever shall we do with you, baby?"  
"Anything," he groaned back, his voice hoarse, lips dry. "Please."  
"Yeah? You sure you're up for that, really?"

He nodded eagerly and stared in awe as both James and Natasha crawled up the bed and kissed, right above him, dirty and wet. Almost out of his own volition, his hand sneaked out and down, but was stopped in his tracks before he even had a chance to touch himself, Natasha's hand small but her grip firm on him.

"We'll take good care of you, not to worry. Let us, all right?"

He couldn't help but struggle in her grip for a second, testing it, looking to see whether she would let go. She not only didn't, but James' metal hand also joined the party, the coldness of the fingers encircling his wrists making him shiver and arche his back.

''Is that how you want it to go?'' James asked, a small smirk on his lips, mischievous and devilish. ''Want us to hold you down? Make you squirm and make sure you can't move? That you have to take what we want to give, nothing more, nothing less?"  
"Fuck," Tony swore, and bucked his hips upwards, looking for some contact.  
"Oh, baby," Natasha crooned, right next to his ear. "You only had to ask."

She'd barely finished speaking that a leather handcuff was snapping closed on his right wrist, just tight enough, and as he looked at it, James took both of his arms and gently straightened up above his head, his fingers grazing the headboard.

"We don't have to," he said seriously, his thumb tracing circles on the inside of Tony's wrist.  
"Please. Please, do it."

The second handcuff closed around his other wrist, and the chain clinked as Natasha linked them behind the headboard, testing that they weren't cutting off Tony's circulation. Then she took hold of his shirt, finished opening it and slid it up his arms, until it was bunched around his wrists, tucked against the fine edges of the handcuffs so he wouldn't get hurt.

''So pretty," she whispered as she ran a finger down his arms, armpits, tickling his sides and settling her hands on his lower abdomen, feeling as it rose up and down erratically. "Breathe, Tony, we've got you."

He bit back some sort of remark about how it was hard to breathe normally when two demigods were looking at him like that, all heated gazes and hungry smiles. Natasha was watching him knowingly, a tender smile stretching her lips up, and he blinked once, twice, then breathed in deep and let the air out slowly, feeling himself relax and settle on the bed.

"That's it, that's just it. You're safe with us. Do you trust us?"

There were so many things he could have answered – how he'd been stabbed in the back every time he'd trusted someone, over and over – but looking at James and Natasha, so quiet and expectant on his sides, so ready to take care of him, there was only one thing he could do. So he nodded, and they both grinned, so well synchronised it was almost creepy.  
And as James leaned down to kiss him again, still hungry, still eager, Natasha's hands sneaked down to unbutton his pants and lower the zip, her touches teasing and never right where he wanted her, too quick to truly provide him any relief, even when she tugged his underwear down with his pants.  
They landed on a pile, somewhere on the floor; a problem for future Tony, because present Tony was way too focused on the way Natasha's mouth was tracing its way back up from his feet, stopping in the ticklish crook of his knee, nibbling at the inside of the thighs. He was trembling, he could feel it – a small tremor up and down his legs – and he had to kiss James back ferociously to restrain from begging for anything more. The soldier seemed to know instinctively what was happening, though, because his mouth stretched in a smile and he bit down on Tony's lower lip as his flesh fingers darted down and pinched a nipple, lightning-quick, but enough to make Tony jump and gasp.

"So sensitive," Natasha commented from between his legs, now, her breath so close to his crotch that it made his breath catch in his throat. "Are you so sensitive everywhere, hm?"

It didn't seem like she was expecting to answer with words, precisely; instead, as James straightened up, his hand lazily exploring the skin of Tony's torso, she put her mouth on him and listened to the sounds he made. They were answer enough; Tony hadn't had much human touch in the last few weeks – except for the expert help of some nurses when he got hurt, that was – and he groaned, trying to hide his face between his hands before the clinking of the chain reminded him that he was at their mercy, open and vulnerable.

"No reason to hide," James smiled, and his tone was so casual, almost like he wasn't rubbing a nipple hard between his fingers, like Tony wasn't arching up into his touch desperately.  
"Please," Tony answered, and Natasha laughed delightedly.

The result from that were vibrations that made him moan brokenly, and he would have killed to have his hands free, to tangle them into Nat's soft hair and guide her gently. But there was nothing he could do; even when he tried to thrust up into her mouth, James was there to stop him, his hands pushing his hips back down.  
It was torture – delightful torture, maybe, but definitely torture. There were things that Natasha was doing with her tongue Tony hadn't even known were possible, and he made a slightly hysterical note to ask about them later. She seemed to instinctively know how he liked it, with just the barest touch of teeth, a little hint of danger that made shivers go up his back.  
And then she was looking up at him, her eyes gleaming dangerously, and she took a breath before going down, down, until her nose was touching his lower stomach. It felt like he was buried in hot silk, and he cried out loud as she swallowed around him.

"Shit, Natasha," James murmured right next to him, and it was a small relief that he sounded as broken as Tony felt, like he couldn't really believe it either

As she pulled back, there was just a string of saliva connecting her mouth to Tony's dick and that was it, he thought, if he was still a teenager, he would have come, just watching that, just from the casual way Nat swiped at it with her hand and licked her lips afterwards-

"Tastes so good," she remarked, and leaned towards James, kissed him as if she wanted him to have a taste, too, to know what she was talking about.

They were in perfect harmony, those two; and as they started to mutually strip down, right there, just in front of Tony, he still couldn't really believe this was happening. Even as Natasha was getting rid of her dress, showing off beautiful, dark blue underwear, he had to blink to make sure he wasn't dreaming. And when she got rid of James' underwear for him, as he stroked his cock, erect and already leaking, he bit at his lip, just to make sure.

"You're beautiful", he whispered, and it sounded almost reverent.

They turned to him and he blushed, his eyes not knowing what to focus on; the sheer expense of skin Nat was showing, littered with scars that just showed how strong she was, what she'd been through; or maybe on the tanned skin of Barnes, glistening from sweat under the soft lights. Both of them had signs of rough life, but it only made them more beautiful to his eyes; they weren't perfect, but they were survivors.  
They were still alive, despite what life had thrown at them.

This time, it was Barnes who crawled down the bed, and a huff of laughter escaped as he looked at what Nat had hidden beneath a towel.

"Really, принцесса?" he teased. "You and your toys…"  
"Wha–"? Tony started to ask, trying to get a look, but Natasha pushed him back down on the pillow and smiled.  
"Trust me, okay? And if there's anything you don't like, just ask us to stop. We will. James will get you ready for him. Think you can take care of me while he does that?"

Like he hadn't been dreaming of that since the day she stepped in the ring and lay Happy flat on his back in two seconds. He nodded eagerly and she grinned down at him, gracefully straddling him and gripping one of his hands.

"Just squeeze my hand if you need a break, yeah?"  
"I can still talk, you know", he remarked, frowning.  
"For now, maybe."

And then James' fingers were on him, and Natasha was lowering herself down, slowly, leaving him plenty of time to look as much as he wanted. She looked inviting and pink, the barest hint of hait surrounding her lips. He wished he had use of his hands right now, but his tongue and lips would have to do; he hoped she didn't mind beard burn, because he dove in eagerly, mimicking what she had done earlier, teasing her everywhere except for where she really wanted him.  
There was the telltale sound of a bottle of lube being opened, then the wet noise of lube on plastic and skin, obscenely loud in a room that was silent except for Natasha's heavy panting. Tony smelled exotic fruits, and he barely had time to wonder at Natasha's choice before James was touching him, circling his hole.  
Now everything felt hot, hotter than it should have been, and he clenched up, gasped, and tried to catch Natasha's eyes.

"Warming lube," she grinned, and he moaned as James breached him with one finger, slow as everything, tracing his burning way inside.

It wasn't the first time he'd tried such lube, but with the overwhelming everything that was surrounding at the moment, the bundle of feelings he would rather not even take a look at, the passionate way Natasha and James were looking at him, it was making everything ten times more, and he groaned as he felt his cock leaking, forming a small puddle on his stomach.  
One finger, two, and then James was gone already and Tony was trying to chase him, his hips shaking as he felt suddenly empty. Clearly, this was not enough? He'd seen what James was packing, after all, and there was no way two fingers were enough to–  
Oh.

Oh.  
This was not flesh anymore, but decidedly plastic, round, small, and he grunted as the first bead popped in, followed by a caress of James' metal fingers.  
Like a perfectly timed distraction, Natasha rocked up on his mouth and he barely felt it as the second bead slipped in, busy as he was learning everything there was to learn about her. She seemed to thrive in danger, like he did; liked it when he bared his teeth and nibbled down, gently, just a pinch on her skin, really. More than anything, she loved it when he pushed his tongue flat on her clit, let her rock up gently; she smelled good, too, just a hint of what made her Natasha buried under all the sweet smell. There was nothing to do but to keep going as James pushed the third bead in – and really, how many of these were there – and take it, trust that they would be taking care of him and know when to stop.

He could feel himself drift away, gently, not enough to lose sight of what was happening, but just what he needed to relax fully, let himself go and bare himself whole to their care. The swipes of his tongue became more languid, less focused, and yet Natasha seemed to enjoy it as much, if not more, as before; he felt her weight more on his torso as she let go of herself.  
And then, just as James was warning him that she was about to come, just as his metal fingers joined Tony's tongue while his flesh ones popped the fourth bead in, she came, just like that. An exhale of air that was the closest to a moan he'd ever heard Natasha come; her fingers clenching around his hand, legs squeezing his torso. Her back was arched, showcasing her muscled shoulders beautifully, the light emphasising the beauty that she was, like this, vulnerable to them but still very much in control. A sharp intake of breath and she was letting her whole weight resting on Tony, careful, despite the rush of her orgasm, not to press on the scars of the reactor.

Her kiss, when it came, was slow, open-mouthed and wet, but he enjoyed it all the same, gave back as good as he got, yearning for the time he'd get a chance to put her arms around her, show her just how much he cared about her.

"Magic tongue, kotenok," she whispered, her words slightly slurred, her smile a little sloppy.

Tony didn't think he'd ever been as in love of her as he was right one, with her head tucked under his, her heart beating fast and strong so close to his. Had he been just a little more under, he might have said something, but as it was, he simply kissed her on the crown of her head, gentle as could be, pouring all of his affection in a simple gesture.  
James gave them this moment, too; silent and still, he watched and smiled, enjoying what was playing out in front of him, the sheer vulnerability of two of the closest guarded people he had ever met. They didn't realise it, maybe, but they were at their best, like this; masks forgotten, appearances and press smiles laid aside, reduced to what they were at the bottom of their hearts.

The soldier waited until Natasha had rolled away, tucking herself against Tony's side, her half-closed eyes watching what James was about to do, and he mouthed a promise of love at her before gently tugging on the string of the toy. Tony's eyes opened wide all of a sudden and he jerked, as if he'd somewhat forgotten what was happening down there. It was greatly enjoyable, but James didn't want to lose much more time; he was hard as a rock, had been ready to go for ages now. And Tony was so relaxed, so open, that the fifth and sixth bead popped in easy as anything.  
He teased at his hole with the seventh one, watching it disappear halfway in before he tugged it gently back out. He was sure he would never get enough of watching Tony's hole flutter shut against the string, of hearing the man sigh and seeing how he squirmed on the bed.

"Two more," James murmured, and he grabbed Tony's ankles, moved them around until the other man had his knees bent and legs spread.

A shiver went through Tony, and James bent down to kiss the inside of his thighs, blowing cold air there for a second. Tony whimpered and looked down at him, pupils blown wide, his hair a sweat-soaked mess, plastered on his forehead. He squirted a bit more lube in his hand, coated the next two beads generously with it and amused himself by caressing around Tony's hole with what was left on his hand, knowing that he would for sure feel the heat of it.  
If he played around for a bit, popping the bead in then back out, it was only, of course, to make sure Tony was fully ready, as relaxed and open as he could be. Even when he tugged on the string to rock the beads inside, again and again until Tony whined and his handcuffs clinked on the headboard, this had nothing to do with him enjoying the teasing and drawing out.  
Tony was incredible; he'd known that for a while, now, but had never been so sure of it before. He'd known the man was touch-starved, loved getting hug and would happily cuddle during movie nights, but this was a whole other level. Every single one of Tony's muscle jumped as he used the toy to tease at his prostate; his toes were clenching, crumpling the dark red sheet, and even though James couldn't see his hands, he just knew they had to be clenched in a fist so tight Tony's knuckles must have been white.

He raised his eyes, looking up at Natasha and searching for her approbation; after all, she'd been the one to plan the evening, he wasn't about to proceed without her agreeing with it. But she simply smiled and nodded, getting back on all fours even as James tugged out bead after bead, occasionally popping one back in just to hear Tony's moan of pleading.

She was hiding him from view now, kissing Tony, and James didn't waste much more time in setting the toy aside, tearing open a condom and getting himself ready. He used some more lube – you could never used too much lube – and put one hand on Tony's hip as he guided himself forward with the other.  
He couldn't hold back a primal groan as he entered the smaller man; everything was so warm, so tight he had to take a second and breathe least he do something stupid like come two seconds in. Tony was clenching around him, which didn't help matters at all; neither did his punched-out little sounds, which James might have taken as signs of pain hadn't Tony's face been crunched into an expression of pure bliss.  
Natasha reached out blindly with a hand and he grabbed it almost desperately as he thrust in a few inches more, careful as he'd ever been. Tony was precious; not someone he would ever willingly hurt.

"More," Tony whimpered in a breathless voice even as Natasha tugged on his hand. "Please, James, please, more, come on."

And really, he'd never been good at denying other people. He was still slow, still cautious, but he slid in all the way, bottomed out, his hips bracketed by Tony's thigh as he experimentally thrust in, then back out, and in again.  
There was a sob and he immediately stopped, but when Tony groaned his name, when he got the chance to take a look at his face, he knew this still wasn't pain. The other man was gone, completely, having finally let himself go fully, tears streaming down his face. He was sniffling, and James briefly wondered how long it had been since anyone had treated him like that, like he deserved to be treated.  
But this wasn't the time for this, really, and he succumbed to Tony's wordless pleas and Natasha's encouraging gaze. His feet locked into the mattress, he thrust out, then in, putting strength into it. Tony slid up onto the mattress and yelped, but his ankles were locked around James' waist now and he wasn't about to let go; was instead trying to fuck himself back on James' dick, desperately, as if he could die if nothing more happened.

So James let go of part of his self-control; gave freedom to the voice that was roaring at him to just take, take, make him come. The slap of skin on skin was obscenely loud now, and his breath sounded wild to his own ears, far from the control he always had on it as a sniper. He wasn't going to last long, that was for sure, but he didn't feel like it would matter much, not tonight; Tony was leaking steadily and trembling all over, looking like a mess, the clinking of his handcuffs now a steady sound as he kept forgetting he wouldn't be able to get a hand on himself.  
He was sure Tony would have been able to come without a touch, ultimately, but Natasha took pity on him before he could test that theory. Her small, manicured hand slid down on Tony's stomach and took hold of his cock, a tight fist that James knew was insanely enjoyable. One stroke, two, three, four, and then Tony's back was arching unnaturally and a moan broke in his throat as he came all over himself, splattering almost up to his nipples and squirming wildly when James didn't stop to let him breathe.

It didn't take him much more time to feel the telltales signs of an impending orgasm. The tickles up and down his spine, the hair standing up on the back of his neck, and his view going all black for a second before an explosion of colour. His hands clenched around Tony's hips for a beat – he'd have marks soon, that was for sure – and then he let go, rolled off of him, but not far. He got his arms around Tony, tucked his head under his, breathing in his unique scent – metallic, tangy, something that smelled like safety to him.

There were still tears rolling down Tony's cheeks, ending up in James' hair, but he was far too gone to care about it. He barely felt it as Natasha got up to grab a towel, wiping him clean then freeing him from the handcuffs; had just enough sense left to wrap his arms around her and James and hold tight.  
He never wanted to let go.


End file.
